


New Years Eve drabbles

by Walker_August



Category: Mission: Impossible, Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, New Year's Eve, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2019-10-08 03:36:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17378825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walker_August/pseuds/Walker_August
Summary: August Walker x reader, 2x NYE drabbles





	1. Chapter 1

The Thames riverside at 11:30pm on New Years Eve is the worst. Genuinely, the absolute worst. The only thing worse could be bumping in to the hunk of a guy you’d had a fling…or something like that with earlier in the year.

You’re not looking where you’re going, trying to get to a good spot through the crowds of people, so when you bump in to him almost full force you mumble an apology and move onwards until you hear that familiar voice calling your name in a surprised tone. You stop dead, wondering if you really heard that or if your brain is playing tricks on you. Reminding you of what you’re missing out on.

You turn, just to be sure, and your breath catches. There he is, August Walker. More handsome than ever; that face, those eyes, that body, that moustache making you weak in the knees all over again.

“August?!” you respond, incredulous, moving back towards him without even meaning to. Your mind immediately replays your entire summer romance, how you’d kept bumping in to him at the cafe on your way to work. How he’d always smiled shyly at you until you’d given in and started talking to him. How an innocent chat had led to a date which had led to another and another. The best sex of your life. The happiest few months of your life. How sorry and sad he’d been to tell you he was going home unexpectedly, called back by work. He’d wanted to carry things on but you’d struggled so much with the idea of a long distance relationship. Waving him off and trying to move on.

You’d never managed to move on.

“Hi. What are you doing here?” you ask, skipping the pleasantries. You feel an ache in your heart as you remember the brush of his fingertips along your skin, the beautiful things he’d whispered in your ear.

“The usual. Work. I didn’t expect to see you here, you hate New Years Eve?” he replies quickly, still remembering the little details of all your late night conversations, cuddled up in bed together.

Your heart is beating staccato in your chest and straight away you want to tell him how you could never get over him, how you were wrong to walk away. Instead you make polite, pleasant conversation, moving away from the crowds a bit so you can talk and talk just like before.

He relaxes under your presence, you can see it, see the subtle changes in his body language and in his words. He was always the most comfortable with you, he’d told you that after your first kiss.

You’re under his spell again too, his energy reviving you from the three month slump you’ve been in.

“I’ve missed you. I know I shouldn’t say it, I know you don’t need to hear it but it’s all I can think right now” he admits to you after a while, purposefully keeping some distance between you, not wanting to give the wrong impression.

“August, that’s exactly what I needed to hear. I knew i’d made a mistake within days, but I couldn’t allow myself to admit that to anyone. I could never, ever move on from you” you reciprocate, closing some of the distance between you slowly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were here?” you ask, a sad note in your tone.

“You were seeing someone new? I didn’t want to interfere”

“There’s no one else. I mean, there was someone but that lasted a week. I couldn’t stop comparing him to you. It’s always you, August. I think it always will be” you know what your words imply but god, you mean it. Have you ever meant anything the way you mean this?

“Does this feel like fate to you?” he asks then, a smile playing there on his lips. He doesn’t believe in any notions like fate, you know that, but the way he says it and the way he starts to lean in to you. You melt as his arms come to wrap around you and pull you close.

“Kiss me, August. And never let go of me, please” you whisper, desperate. 

And that’s when time seems to stop, when his lips meet yours in a kiss that feels familiar and brand new all at once. Neither of you even realise it’s midnight as you kiss, pressed close together, the new year looking brighter than you ever could have expected.


	2. Chapter 2

New Years Eve at home with August and a few of your friends was everything you could’ve wished for. Just last year you’d been stuck in a club, miserable and alone while your friends made out with their partners or strangers and you wondered if New Years Eve would ever be anything other than disappointing.

Now, August is pouring you another glass of bubbly as you all talk about your best moments of the year. There’s a definite buzz going on, and you can tell August is getting a little tipsy too as he sits down next to you and rests his hand on your thigh, lightly squeezing and giving you a happy smile that would melt the coldest heart.

“August, what was your favourite moment this year?” your best friend asks him, and he’s still looking at you when he replies.

“Meeting this one” followed by a light boop on your nose “It was a rainy February day and I was feeling miserable, and then she walked in to the coffee shop I was in and the whole world just…lit up” even though there’s a slight slur to his speech the words are so genuine and make you fall in love all over again.

“Come here” you all but pull him to you by the collar of his shirt and press your lips to his. There’s a chorus of ‘aww’ as you kiss, maybe for a little longer than is decent with company. When you pull away he lets you lean in to him with his arm around you, fingers tracing light circles on your arm, as you continue to drink and chat.

The more you drink you notice the lower his hand moves, until it’s resting on your waist and toying subtly with the waistband of your jeans. Your free hand runs up the nape of his neck and through the soft hair on the back of his head. Occasionally, he leans in and kisses you softly. Neither of you have it in you to not be touching each other at this point.

When the clock strikes midnight, you let August pull you away from the others and in to the kitchen where he kisses you hungrily, hands roaming your curves and squeezing. Both of you stumbling a little before you find balance against the fridge. He you break apart for air he runs his hands through your hair and tells you “I needed the first minute of the year to be just me and you, just how it should be”. Even drunk, he’s romantic and gentle and kind.

“You’re perfect” you sigh, gently stroking the hairs of his moustache straight, he closes his eyes as you do

“You’re even more perfect” he grins before going in to kiss you passionately again. As you make out like teenagers, you hear your friends pondering where the two of your are.

“I don’t wanna let you go” you pout and sigh, holding his hands and leaning against him.

“Is it too early to kick them out?” he whispers with a laugh, kissing your forehead and then tilting your head up so he can peck his lips to yours again before letting you go. As you walk away back towards the living room he lightly smacks your ass and you let out a delighted squeal, too drunk to be embarrassed.

You realise you’re probably that one obnoxious couple now when he sits down and then pulls you across to sit on his lap, and you see at least one friend try to conceal an eye roll. You lean back in to him a little and August rests his chin on your shoulder, occasionally pressing his lips to your neck when he thinks no one’s going to notice.

Eventually, finally, your best friend announces her tiredness with a sly “I think we should leave these lovebirds to it”. And once everyone has gone, you and August have one last toast to the new year before you both fall back on to the sofa. Your affection becomes much less subtle now everyone has left, until you both start to doze off cuddled together on the sofa, running your hands through his curls as he starts to fall asleep.

“This is going to be our year” is the last thing you hear him say before you pass out on top of him.


End file.
